


Sunset

by Chellodello



Series: Levi is a Questionable Grief Counselor [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Universe, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, humorous bits???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 06:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chellodello/pseuds/Chellodello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has to tell Jean to stop or he'd keep stabbing the crystal forever.<br/>Or;<br/>Levi has somehow become the grief counselor for the entire 104th.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to only be a drabble to make me feel better about episode 25, but it turned into a full blown sequel to 'Baobab'. I am so gomen.

_ Oh, little prince! Bit by bit I came to understand the secrets of your sad little life... For a long time you had found your only entertainment in the quiet pleasure of looking at the sunset. "One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!" And a little later you added: "You know, one loves the sunset, when one is so sad."  
"Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?" But the little prince made no reply.... _

-

Levi thinks it almost fitting that the clouds have cleared just in time for the battle to be over. Even more fitting is that the light it rains down on them is a deep orange, almost red in some places, making the destroyed city of Stohess look as if it was bleeding out.

In a way it was.

Another cry of anguish fills the air as Jean tries fervently to cut the girl out of the crystal she’s encased herself in; like some sort of treacherous butterfly. The encasement is as hard as hard and utterly unbreakable. Once, when he was younger and stole things for a living, he had been commissioned to snitch some kind of precious gem for a particularly greedy noble, something called a diamond. The man had said that the rare stone was stronger than any other material; that you couldn’t even cut it with extreme pressure and fire. He remembers noticing it was pretty enough, but not being overly convinced of it being worth what he was being paid to steal it.

The crystal cocoon shimmers in the deep light of the setting sun and Levi thinks that maybe whatever the Leonhardt girl has encased herself in is made up of a similar material. Jean’s blade shatters on only the fifth strike; effortless, like the metal that regularly pierced the neck of monsters was made only of glass.

The ash haired boy doesn’t stop trying; he simply replaces the blade with a second one.

It is a mindless action, a natural one, as if it wasn’t a question: of course he got out another blade and redoubled his efforts, what else would he be doing?

On the ground huddled in his sister’s embrace like he was going to break at any moment, Eren wakes up from his titan induced sleep and immediately starts asking what’s was going on.

No one answers directly but they all watch on with baited breath, waiting to see what will shatter first, the crystal or the will of a boy—man— some strange in between he supposes, who needed answers. No matter how much of a headache the 104th was, if nothing else, they were persistent.

A third blade shatters and a fourth one is drawn.

The fourth blade is ruined in only two strikes and nearly impales Moblit when it racquets off the crystal. It is a tense situation made even more stressful by Jean’s sudden yelling. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Eren cringe.

Levi had always thought that Jean had a particularly grading voice; it was an obnoxious assault on his eardrums whenever he spoke and reminded him of the sound that came from a fork being scrapped across a plate. The only thing worse than his usual voice was when he stopped speaking all together; instead sitting silently in a pool of his own thoughts as he had through the meetings for this clusterfuck of a mission. It was like he was there in body, but not in spirit, not really.

Levi knows that feeling intimately, has known its taste and has held its hand in moments of deepest despair. He has learned to let that guilt out, but Jean clearly hasn’t and he doesn’t have it in his heart to tell him to shut up right now.

“This isn’t fair Annie! Finish what you started! It’s not fair— ITS NOT!” At once Levi remembers: A conversation with Eren, the loss of a dear friend, the tears. _“…Marco was Jean’s—well, he was Jean’s. That’s it. He’s gone —it’s not fair- It’s-Not. Fair. It’s not.”_

It looked like Jean had put two and two together and made four. He was dumb, but he wasn’t so dumb as to not see that Annie having his boyfriends gear made it entirely too likely that she had something to do with his death: Had probably caused it.

“Heichou….” Eren’s voice, weak from tiredness but firm in conviction, breaks him out of his memories. The corporal feels the big stupid green eyes boring into his back and knows what sad kicked puppy look the boy is wearing without needing to even face him. All it is is his title, but Levi knows that tone, knows Eren, and understands what is being asked of him. _‘You helped me, why not him? Do something, make him stop.’_

Levi's legs, the left one still stinging from the pull of the gear, are moving before he is entirely conscious of it, bringing him rest just behind Jean. He feels like some kind of trained pet and any other time it would piss him off enough to land a swift kick or twelve into Jaeger’s face, but today has been too draining to do even that. He curses his soft heart; these stupid brats have him wrapped around their little fucking booger covered fingers.

From this close he can see Jean is trembling violently with emotion as he is screams that all of this is for nothing and the lance corporal finds he agrees. This was a waste of time, life and energy; No matter what Erwin seemed to think Levi really couldn’t see the silver lining in any of this.

The fifth blade is completely ruined.

“Stop.”

He’s not really sure what makes him reach a hand out and clasp his shoulder, he hadn’t intended to at all. As a rule of thumb Levi didn’t like touching people, especially teenagers,  _who were gross enough to begin with_ , and ESPECIALLY teenagers when they were still probably covered to fuck knows what from battle.  But here he is, doing just that with nary a shudder.

Jean tenses up and turns to face him, arm still raised with his blade clutched in his iron grip. The look in his eyes is feral, almost frantic, as if it is taking everything he has not to shrug off his hand and resume his assault.

It probably is.

“It’s useless.” He hears himself say and at least his voice sounds normal and flat. To anyone watching it is an order like any other, but to Jean it is a loophole. If he is told to stop than it isn’t his fault he couldn’t do it. His eyes, normally a soft brown, are nearly golden in the harsh sunset and the lance corporal is reminded of Eren’s eyes; manic and desperate to reach their goal, impassioned to the point of stupidity.

They really were right to choose Jean to impersonate Eren; they were more alike than they were different.

Maybe it’s whatever affection he holds for Eren, a subject he is  **still**  actively trying not to think about, that’s causes him to steady the boy after he has lowered his weapon. Maybe that’s why he use a relatively gentle touch, gentle for him anyway, when he peels the blade handle out of Jean’s hand when dry sobs rack through his tall form. Maybe that’s what makes him squeeze Jean’s shoulder not once, but twice, in comfort, before letting go.

Levi motions for Hanji to do something about the crystal. He doesn’t even want to look at it anymore; it just reminds him of how useless this whole day was. He walks away, but notices immediately that Jean has begun to follow him at a distance as if he doesn’t want to get left behind but doesn’t know if it’s permissible to get closer. Idly Levi wonders what is it about him that seemed to make these annoying brats think that it was okay to follow him around like ducklings to their mother. It was becoming an issue.

He is about to say something about it, but the sun chooses now to glare against the metal hilt of the blade handle in his hand. Levi glares at it: a worn _'M.Bodt'_ carved into the metal just about the grip is what meets his irritated stare.

Jean had kept Marco’s blade hilts.

The short man sighs deeply, the only tell he will give that this day has completely drained him, and calls out. “Kirschtein, get over here.” Jean’s head snaps up and searches his gaze before nodding and walking with him. Now that he is relatively sure he wasn’t going to be an idiot and run back to hack at the crystal some more, Levi thrusts the hilt back into his grip “Take care of it.” The understood ‘ _for Marco’_  need not be said.

The ash haired boy nods once with surety. “I will sir.”

“Good.”

The sun bleeds even deeper red as it retreats behind the walls and Levi is struck by the image of this boy, almost man, who has known loss so intimately, clutching a dead man’s weapon to his chest as if it will keep him close. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to get it out of his head for a long time, if ever.

“Now I don’t know about you but there’s a certain shit for brains titan shifting brat that needs to be yelled at because he decided to act like a toddler and destroy half of the inner wall. Anything you’d be interested in watching?”

Across the way, Eren hears the statement and pales, which serves him right for  ~~ _making me worry_~~  being a fucking idiot.

“I’m always up for telling Jaeger he’s a suicidal moron sir.”

 _Sweet Lady Rose grant me serenity…_  “Don’t push it Kirschstein.”

“…Sorry.”

Levi doesn’t know how he’s fallen this low; babysitting children  ~~ _training them personally_~~ , becoming their fucking grief counselor  ~~ _soothing their pains_~~ , listening to their  ~~ _stupid_  ~~problems; not just for Kirschtein and Eren but for most of the 104th.

Rather, Levi knows; but doesn’t want to admit that it’s not because he’s just turned into a giant fucking sissy with old age, but because actually likes them.

Gross.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again; the title and the quote at the beginning of the story comes from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery.


End file.
